


Heel

by smithandrogers



Series: The Marshal of Hope County [1]
Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Defiance, F/M, Mentions of PTSD, Slow Burn, he thinks he's an unmovable object, mentions of emotional/mental trauma, she's an unstoppable force
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-01-29 17:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21414172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithandrogers/pseuds/smithandrogers
Summary: Marshall Elaine North was sure things would be routine when she was sent to Montana to serve a warrant. It wasn’t, and now she is determined to  uphold the law despite the circumstances, and despite the Seeds’ best efforts to break her. Naturally, Joseph sets Jacob the task of turning her. Jacob Seed has met his match.
Relationships: Jacob Seed/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Marshal of Hope County [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926883
Comments: 17
Kudos: 106





	1. A Shepherd in Wolf's Clothing

He could feel her eyes on him. Yards away and he still knew she was watching. Waiting. It’s what she did. He had put her in a cage and underestimated her and she was making him pay for it. He looked down the line, watching everyone veer away as they passed and he felt a pang of annoyance. Almost a dozen men had made the mistake of getting too close and every one of them had stumbled away with strangled cries sporting a broken nose or arm.

As he got closer, he could see her watching him. Sharp, dark eyes tracking every movement from behind the bars. No fear, no anger, just… boredom and defiance. It was aggravating. She was so smug about it all. She refused to be broken, refused to bend knee. Every trial was a sprint without a single bullet fired. Every attempt to bring her under his control resulted in her mockingly singing the tune at him. She was a good singer. That made it worse. She would croon and meet his gaze, a small smile on her lips but fire in her eyes.

Joseph continuously warned against the anger that was growing inside him, but he didn’t know how much longer he could stand her. She refused him at every turn. Doubt had begun to creep into his mind. What if she couldn’t be broken? What if she couldn’t fulfill the duties asked of her? She was supposed to be a wolf and yet she guarded the soft herd so fiercely. He forced aside his misgivings and stepped up to face her. Her expression softened as she regarded him, and he knew it was meant to antagonize him. “Well, hello there, Jacob.” She purred; her crooked smile almost cruel, “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

She refused to acknowledge her imprisonment. She refused to submit to his or Joseph’s authority. He didn’t mistake her coyness for complacency. Jacob knew that a single step forward would place himself within reach. It would be risking the malice of her considerable grip. She thought about it constantly: about taking him by the wrist and pulling him hard against the bars, breaking his wrist, nose and whatever else she could manage before taking the pistol from his hip.

Its all she would need. A single pistol and a weakened Jacob and she could liberate the whole compound. He would not underestimate her. There was a reason why she was chosen. So he ignored her attempts to goad a reaction out of him and he moved on. He didn’t miss the look that passed between her and the other one… Pratt? Jacob really didn’t remember his name but he knew that look. Even in silence, they had exchanged a word. He wasn’t worried. Pratt didn’t have the spine to act on whatever defiant thought she had just conveyed to him.

She proved him wrong. Again. That night, sirens blared. In the morning both her and Pratt couldn’t be found. The anger he had been swallowing all these weeks bubbled up uncontrollably until it splattered itself on the walls of his room. He threw everything not attached to the ground; breaking chairs, overturning his cot, his desk; wrenching drawers from the dresser. Papers and clothes and splinters covered every inch of the ground as his chest heaved. The heat and flames inside him subsided and he ran a hand through his hair, abandoning the wreckage and marching down towards the control room.

His hand closed around the radio microphone as if he were about to throttle it. “You managed to escape for a little bit, but whenever I want, I can have you back here with me. But you’ve got time to play you little games. I’ll let you know when it’s time to come home.”

There was a long moment of silence, static filling the space, reverberating off the concrete walls. An errant thought crawled through his mind as he stared at the gray wall: she would be the end of him. He wasn’t afraid to die, but what if she didn’t kill him? Far away, in the Wolf’s Den, she too stared at a gray wall, letting Tammy tend to a cut on her arm. She smiled. “I look forward to it.”

It was a warning. There was a tightness in her voice, a determination. She would not step down from his challenge.

“They see her as a shepherd, but she is a wolf.” Joseph assured him later, “She will come back to the pack; abandon the herd. She is a wolf in shepherd’s clothing.”

Jacob silently wondered if it was the other way around.


	2. Only You

Silence followed. He spent weeks listening to John insist she carried the sin of wrath; insist that he would need extra time to get her to repent. The youngest brother would make thinly veiled comments that hinted at a growing obsession with her. Faith was no better. She constantly complimented the politeness of their meetings; of the care she showed the people she believed she was protecting. Misguided, they called her; strong and resilient and in need of direction.

Jacob said nothing. His silence mirrored the silence she had left him. She spent more time harassing his siblings than him. Maybe she had finally grown to fear him… or maybe she was bored with him. Why did that thought bother him? So she was pestering the others. It would leave him time and space to get his work done… until her voice whispered over the radio.

He was sitting by the radio, pouring over a map, trying to make sure that supplies were being correctly routed towards the bunker when he heard it. Heard her. 

“Jacob.”

It was a soft whisper and he questioned for a moment whether or not he had actually heard anything when it came.

“Jacob.” 

This time she drew out the syllables, sing-songing it eerily through the airwaves. He regarded the radio, wrestling with the urge to respond. “I was thinking about that story you told me, Jacob. I was thinking about what you have let yourself become. Joseph said you were a protector.”

  
There was a long drawn out sigh that put a strange sensation in his stomach. She sounded… sad. “Do you regret it, Jacob?”

  
He frowned. What did she mean? Becoming a soldier? Doing everything he had done for the Project? Helping his family? He was about to answer; about to put her in her place when she spoke again.

“Do you regret betraying Miller?”

  
Suddenly his hand was on the call button even as cold alarm flooded his veins and demanded he didn’t. “Betray? What do you…”

  
“He was your friend, Jacob. And you betrayed him. You let him die. You were selfish.”

  
That word cut against him like a knife. Selfish? “The weak…”

  
“Must be protected by the strong, Jacob. You protected your brothers when they were weak. The strong are gifted and the price of that strength is service…” there was a light, hollow laugh that made Jacob uneasy, “But you don’t care, right? Because you’re selfish.”

  
Again. Selfish. The word agitated him. Put him on edge. How dare she? “What do you want?” he snarled.

  
He couldn’t… what was she saying? He would die for them. He would do anything for them… wouldn’t he?

“You are all so concerned with why I’m doing what I’m doing, so thought I ought to clear it up in a way you might understand. Let you know why I… resist.”

  
“We’re different, you and I.” she said softly, “If it had been me out there, well maybe both me and Miller would have died, but you can bet I would‘ve spent my last breath trying to get him home.”

  
“The weak don’t deserve this world.”

  
It was all he could say. His mind raced and yet felt blank at the same time. She would die for them, but unlike him, she would not let them die for her. Why? She was worth so much more…

“None of us do, Jacob. That is why life is a gift. Gifts are given, not earned.”

  
The feeling she was right curled like a snake in his stomach. Why? Why was she pestering him like this? Did she whittle at the others this way? Was this some scheme to turn him against his family? It wouldn’t work.

“If you want a gift, I can give you one.” He said softly, not letting his emotions taint his tone, “All you have to do is ask.”

  
“I want you to answer the question.” She said flatly, refusing to be baited, “Do you regret it?”

  
Yes. He would never say it aloud. It wasn’t a thought he let bubble to the surface often, but yes, he regretted it. Everyday a single drop of doubt lingered at the back of his mind if he had deserved to live over Miller and every day, he pushed it away. The weak didn’t deserve this world. Miller didn’t deserve to live when Jacob had been stronger. And here she was, toying with him. He hated it. He hated her.

“Do you bother all my siblings like this?”

  
There was a soft laugh, somehow made more delicate by the static that filled the airway.

“Only you.” 

  
The radio clicked and fell silent.


	3. A Little Bit of Justice, A Little Bit of Wrath

Her voice became familiar. Whispers over static and laughter over gunfire. She never told him what he wanted to hear; never gave anything away, but she talked to him in a way that set him on edge. No one just… talked to him. Sometimes it was nonsense, speaking of deer hunted and fish caught, or of cuddles with a cougar, or fetch with a dog. Sometimes it was hard philosophy, shared wisdom of reaches of the globe he had never been. He rarely replied, but he always listened. No one talked to him like this, so casually, so nonchalant and routine. Only her.

He fought the anticipation that would build in his chest over the silent nights between her calls. It was a pressure that would build and build throughout the day with every report of havoc and rebellion. She claimed John’s ranch. She defended the Hope County Jail against an assault. She was capturing all of his judges and ushering them off who knows where. Then, night would fall and she would call out across the airwaves.

“Jacob.” She'd sing-song his voice in away that made his heart wrench.

She never expected him to respond, even if she did ask him a question. When he did, she would let out a satisfied little sigh that pulled at his gut, like his voice was everything she had been waiting for. He never asked why she did this. He was pretty sure he knew why; he knew she was doing her best to soften him; but he indulged her. She didn’t speak to his siblings this way. Faith pouted when she ignored calls to the Bliss. John would throw a tantrum when she would escape one of his hunting parties. Joseph’s messages would go unanswered. But Jacob would always get a call. So he kept it secret; convinced himself that he was getting to her just as much as she thought she was getting to him.

One night, she talked very little, singing softly mostly, sounding as if she were hiking up a slope. Jacob found himself closing his eyes, her voice filling him as she sang that song. His song. “How’d you get your scar?” He asked, without thinking.

There was silence. He could picture it perfectly in his mind: the line that carved its way up her face, curving along her cheekbone until surging upwards, slashing through her brow, quirking it permanently upwards. There was vigor to the scar that ensured there was one hell of a story behind it. He heard her inhale sharply, and for a moment, he thought she might end the transmission, but then, “Some men will go to any length to get what they want.”

His eyes flew open, the answer catching his attention, setting him on edge. “Did he get what he wanted?”

His heartbeat had quickened. The thought of someone trying to take something from her… it was amusing. “Jacob,” She said, “You of all people should know… I’m not one to be possessed.”

No. He couldn’t hold her. He doubted anything could. “And what happened to him?”

More silence. He didn’t like that. The warm amusement turned cold, almost… concerned. “Somethings…” She grunted, and there was a scraping sound, “Sometimes…”

More grunting and scraping and the clattering of loose rocks. She was climbing. Where was she? What was she doing? “Sometimes.” She repeated more firmly, catching her breath, “You have to realize that revenge isn’t worth the price. I am here. I am free. I have a scar to remind me of the price of complacency.” She laughed, “If your brother had his way, I’d have another to remind me to keep my temper.”

“Do you find yourself being wrathful?”

Another laugh. “No. I like to think I’m more justice than wrath at the moment.”

“What’s the difference?”

He heard the distinctive metallic click of a gun being cocked. “Well, Jacob, justice is a virtue and wrath is a sin.” Her condescending tone was half-hearted, he could tell she was focused on something else, “It all has to do with purpose, doesn’t it.”

Jacob found himself leaning forward, straining to hear every noise that came over the airwaves. “What do you mean?”

“The line between sin and virtue is purpose Jacob. Greed is taking things for yourself; Charity is giving to others. Justice is action for others; Wrath is action for one’s self. It’s a thin line. It gets blurry sometimes, but I like to think I know where it is.”

“And where’s that line right now, Elaine?”

It was faint, but he could hear her breath catch. He even caught himself by surprise. He couldn’t remember ever saying her name before. “Its…uh… it’s well, right behind me I guess.”

In a rare moment, she faltered and he smiled. He’d gotten to her. “What are you about to do?”

“And here I thought only John took confessions.”

“For you,” He let himself sound as amused as he felt, succumbing to the satisfaction that filled him, “I’ll make an exception.”

“Why don’t you look out your window and find out.”

He stood immediately, pacing towards the large windows of the radio room. “Where?”

“South…east.”

She knew he was up high enough to nearly see the entirety of the county. He could see the river and the lake and…

The explosion was spectacular. He was glad he had stepped away from the radio because the sound was astonishingly loud, coming over the radio as mostly interference. Joseph’s statue crumbled from its high perch.

“So… I don’t know…” her voice called out from behind him as he stared, entranced by the far-off destruction, “I guess a bit of both. A little bit of justice, a little bit of wrath. Goodnight, Jacob.”

The radio clicked off.


	4. The Weak Have Their Purpose

They caught her in a moment of pure luck. His Chosen would say it was their skill in the hunt, but there was little skill involved in shooting a woman who was waist deep in the engine bay of a truck. He looked down at her as she lay on the table, the medic being as careful as possible as they worked to remove the arrow from her thigh. As he leaned in, watching her eyes twitch back and forth, he realized he had never been this close to her before. If she hadn’t been blissed out of her mind at that moment, he doubt he’d still be able to breath. Her presence, so near, was almost as warming and welcoming as the sound of her voice had become. This close, he could count all of the freckles that dusted across her cheeks; he could see the pale line that cut through her iris in line with her scar; he could admire the plains of her face, memorizing every feature. He gripped the side of the table, resisting the urge to touch her. He shouldn’t; he couldn’t. He silently berated himself for even entertaining the thought.

He pushed away, turning to leave. “Let me know when she’s ready.” He growled.

Fighting the lure of the Bliss had become a talent of hers. By the time they had gotten her strapped into her chair, awaiting the next trail, she was already fighting them. Weakly, but still fighting, just conscious enough to throw and land a punch on anyone who wasn’t quick enough. As the fog cleared, she struggled less, settling in. She was patient. It would take time to escape and there was no point in wasting energy on useless endeavors.

Jacob hovered behind the door, watching as she settled in her chair, her breathing slowing as she calmed down into that lethally cool state that set every one of his men on edge. Those dark eyes stared ahead, expression blank, but he could see the machinations at work. She was planning the next twenty steps. He had to make sure he had twenty-one or else she’d slip through his fingers again. As he stepped into the room, and that dark gaze fell on him, it took everything not to falter; not to notice the twitch of a smile that tugged at her lips; not to notice the softening of her expression. “Hello, Jacob.”

His name coming from her had become so familiar, it set him on edge. “Hello, Elaine.” He replied, matching her smooth tone.

She wouldn’t beat him; he couldn’t let her. He paced back and forth in front of her as she tugged halfheartedly at her restraints. “And here I thought we were starting to get along.”

It took everything he had to not respond. The look she gave him; the lopsided smile; the almost genuine tone in her voice; it was tempting. He could not be tempted. He clicked the remote he had in his hand and the sequence started playing; images flashing on the wall from the projector. She stiffened, resisting as Bliss began to fill the air around her. Her jaw set, muscles bulging as she fought its lure. Jacob circled behind her, ignoring the strange tug in his chest brought on by her distress. He leaned in close as she finally relaxed back against the chair, ready for his trial. “Cull the herd.” He whispered.

Every step was a fight. He found himself pacing more than usual; his voice harsher with every act of defiance. It him a little while before he could piece together why he was so angry; why his temper flared every time she refused him; why he was raising his voice, nearly howling, with every restart of the trial: he didn’t want her to break, and he hated himself for it. If she broke, he realized, watching her pressed back against the chair, teeth gritted in pain and chest heaving with effort; it wouldn’t be real. It wouldn’t be worth it if she wasn’t what she claimed to be; what he thought her to be.

Hours later, and she still held on strong. She must have done the trial a hundred times; inhaling a fair amount more Bliss than was advisable. Not the least bit pleased. Jacob clicked the remote and the projector turned off. He pushed open the window and let the haze of Bliss dissipate. She relaxed in the chair, eyes closed and breathing heavily. Bracing against the arms of the chair, he leaned in close. “Why do you fight?”

It was no longer an accusation. It was more like a tired, soft plea. Why did she keep going? What pushed her forward when even he was at his end. “The weak have their purpose. You’ll see soon enough.”

The malice and disdain in her voice cut him deeper than anything he had felt in years. For a moment, he thought it would be left at that; a scathing and cruel twisting of his own words back at him until he felt the pain blossom across his cheeks as she headbutted him. Her forehead connected squarely with his nose. The sensation was white-hot and overwhelming, bringing tears to his eyes as he stumbled backwards. And yet, as his hands flew to his face to staunch the blood that began to stream from his nose, he found himself laughing. It hurt. Fuck, did it hurt, but he deserved it. They could play this game all they wanted; they could dance around each other and say what they wanted over the radio but she wasn’t going to let him forget who he was; who she was. She was a wolf and she liked to bite.


	5. Surrender If You Will

The metal bars were cold against her skin, but for once she welcomed the coolness. She felt as if she was burning up, heart still racing from the trial. Her leg pulsed with pain, but she refused to do anything except stand, not with them watching. They wouldn’t see her vulnerable; they couldn’t; it would ruin the plan. After all these weeks, the cult and especially Jacob had become predictable. Their goal was singular and so were their methods. They were getting desperate and Jacob… she watched him pace slowly along the row of cages, inspecting the wolves kept in them… well Jacob had surprised her. He was acting… different and she couldn’t help the glimmer of hope that had found a place in her chest. Eli was convinced this would end in blood, but maybe… just maybe it could end differently.

She was wearing thin though. The fight for the county had begun to take its toll on her. She was tired: mentally, physically, emotionally… hell, even spiritually at this point. She was tired of this ‘holy war’; she was tired of the cult; she was tired of hiking in the woods; of people crying over loss and of death and of pain… And she was sure as hell tired of Jacob pacing in front of her. The brilliant black eye he was sporting, however, was doing wonders to brighten her mood. She watched with mild interest as he continued to ignore her in favor of the wolves in the next cage over.

Strange feelings roiled inside Jacob’s chest as he watched the wolves pace circles. His fingers itched for the release button. A single movement from him and they would be free; she would be free. He could feel that dark gaze boring holes into him. It made his skin itch and his stomach turn. He had spent every moment, both waking and asleep recalling the feeling of her head colliding with his face. It had been a long time since someone had hit him. It had been even longer since he had felt he had deserved it. Rational Jacob wanted to let her out; let her fight him; see how well she’d do with that leg, but a different part of him held him back. He couldn’t fight her; he barely had the stomach to look at her.

He retreated inside without a word or even a glance in her direction. A frown drew hard lines on his face and a soft smile crept across her lips: she had gotten under his skin. He spent the rest of the day doing his best to plan patrols and send out updates to Joseph. She spent the day biding her time. As night fell, neither left the other’s minds. He stalked the aisles of the armory, checking inventory lists he had already checked a hundred times, chewing his lip to fight the urge to smile at the memories of their radio conversations that haunted his idle mind. She finally sank to the ground and closed her eyes, giving in to the lull of exhaustion, wondering if it had been remorse she had seen in his eyes.

It was the soft click of a lock that woke her. The night was quiet and so were their footsteps as they made their way through the compound. There would be no escape this time. She moved with purpose through the dark hallways, ignoring the singing pain in her leg. She had promised Eli an arrest, and she was determined to make one. They wound their way through the maze, knocking out anyone they couldn’t avoid until they finally reached the armory. She gave Jess and Eli both a final glance before stepping inside. They locked the door behind her.

“Jacob.”

Every hair on his body stood on end as he heard her voice. For a moment, he wondered if he’d finally gone mad; that he was just imagining it, but then the echo of soft footsteps assured him that this was real. He straightened. Alarm quickly faded into curiosity. “You’re up late, Jacob.” She said, her voice echoing off the concrete walls, “Can’t sleep?”

The armory was large, and it was easy for her to hide behind the crates and shelves that formed the maze-like layout of the room. If he wanted to find her, he’d have to work for it. “Is this it, little one?” He called back, “Is this how your plan ends.”

His steps were slow and measured as he strained to gauge the sound of hers. He wasn’t about to underestimate her again. “All good things come to an end, Jacob.”

There was a wistfulness to her tone that made him weary. With every passing moment, the certainty that she aimed to take his life cemented itself in his mind. He was ready, either way. If he killed her, she’d put up an honorable fight and if she killed him… his chest tightened. Well, he couldn’t ask for a better last view. “Even if you kill me, what makes you think that you’ll make it out of here?”

Her sigh echoed around him, sending chills down his spine, feeling as if it were right in his ear. “That’s up to the weaklings. You know, the housewife, the teenager, the fool and the rest.”

“So you brought the lambs to the slaughter. How kind of you.”

“You know, you can cut the bible metaphors and just say what you mean.”

She was close. Every muscle in his body tensed, adrenaline pumping through his veins. “And what do I mean?”

“You’re sad it’s over.”

She would have been lying if she’d said she wasn’t anticipating his response. There was a definite thrill to all this; a slow dance towards the culmination of weeks of hard work, planning and just a little desperation. She knew she couldn’t get him to give in, but she could get him to stand in just the right spot… “Maybe a little,” He admitted, trying to keep her talking, “But I’ll still kill you if you make me.”

She was close, he knew it. Just a few more moments and he would have her. “There’ll be no need for that, Jacob.”

“Why, are you surrendering?”

“No, but you will.”

He looked up too late. Perfectly timed and perfectly executed, she brought him down to the ground, unencumbered by her bad leg. The last sensation he felt as the world went dark was the flexing of her arm against his throat. Only her, it could only have been her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are always welcome!   
and don't worry, this is not the last chapter :)


	6. Not a Judge, Not a Jury

He wasn’t happy. Either death felt like being handcuffed and blindfolded in the back of a smelly truck cab, or he had failed, once again, to get her to pass a trial. Joseph had been so sure of her, so sure of her fate, and yet she had once again bucked the destiny she’d been given. She couldn’t even kill him when she’d had him vulnerable and unconscious. After all the he’d done, she’d still spared his life. He stared at the canvas covering his eyes, trying to sort through the feelings bubbling up inside of him. Anger, frustration… amusement? There was a small part of him that was… pleased? She could have just left him and escaped, but instead she had taken him; claimed him as her prisoner, and part of him… liked that.

He mulled over this strange feeling, listening to the arguing voices outside of the vehicle. “We need to get moving, the longer we stand around arguing, the closer…”

“Yeah, yeah, but seriously? This is your plan?”

“They’ve got eyes on all the roads. This will be more discreet. If we split up, we’ll be harder to track. This is your expertise; it should be easy for you.”

He recognized her voice easily. The confidence; the calm assertive tone; he’d never had the opportunity to see her leadership skills in person… or hear them, at least. He was mildly impressed. “We’re not… Its not about that. We just… will you be able to handle him?”

Footsteps approached and he heard the door open. “I already have.”

It was a bold statement on her behalf, but the way she said it was tantalizing; challenging. “You can handle me anytime.” He said in the direction of her voice.

A hand grabbed his arm and pulled him out into the fresh air. The roughness of the action made him chuckle, knowing that he had flustered her, even if it was just a little. He wasn’t about to make this easy for her. His blindfold was yanked away, revealing the surprising darkness of the night. Four shadowy figures stood just beyond his vision as his eyes struggled to adjust the shadowed half-light of the forest. Her hand left his arm and she started fiddling with the cuffs at his wrists.

For a moment, he questioned whether or not he should try something. In the same moment, her every muscle tensed waiting for him to make a move. She held her breath, waiting for a retaliatory punch or lunge, but he remained still. She freed one of his wrists and placed the cuff around her own, chaining them together. He wasn’t going anywhere. Jacob frowned, not expecting that move. She ignored him and addressed her comrades. “I promised you justice. I promised you an arrest, and that is what I will deliver. You have what you need. I’ll see you on the other side.”

They all nodded silently, split into pairs and disappeared into the night. She watched them go, swallowing her nerves and doubts, steeling herself. This was going to work. If it didn’t, well, she could take whatever consequence the Seeds schemed up, so long as the others were safe. She grabbed his cuffed wrist and started out into the dark, dragging him along with her. “Justice, huh?” He said, “So what’s the plan? You gonna throw me to the Whitetails? Parade me around Fall’s End?” He slipped his hand out of her grip and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to a halt, “Push me until you get everything you want out of me?” He hissed in her ear.

He heard the click of a safety and felt her position her foot threateningly behind the heel of his boot. “You are in my custody.” She said evenly, “It is my duty to see you to trial. Nothing happens to between here and then. You are my prisoner.”

He didn’t like how much he enjoyed the way she said that. “Why bother?” He pulled harder on her arm, pulling her against him, taking out his frustration at his own confusing emotions on her, “Why go through all this work, why not just pull the trigger. My life was in your hands and you just… let me off easy.”

“I’m just doing what’s right. I’m a soldier, not a killer, Jacob.”

She was annoyingly calm. He hated it and loved it. The safety clicked again, even though he hadn’t released her, and he heard the gun being holstered. It was too dark to see her face, but he could imagine it; that dark gaze, even and fiery; her lips set in a firm, determined frown. He relaxed, letting her slip from his grip. He wasn’t going to make this easy, but he always wanted to see how this would end. How far would she go to ‘protect’ him. They resumed their pace through the dark. In the distance, ever so faint, they could hear the howling of wolves. The Judges were coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life hit me pretty hard for a while there, but I'm doing better now so regular updates will resume once more. Let me know how you guys are liking this so far. Comments and criticism are always welcome.


	7. Hunted

Cold air clogged her throat and burned her lungs, but purpose drove her onward. Every chilling howl in the distance reminded her they couldn’t stop. She’d done all she could to make them hard to track; they were covered head to toe in mud and their clothes were drenched from the creek they had hiked through for a couple miles. Jacob had hardly said a word throughout, surprisingly. There was only the tug at her wrist and his breathing just behind her to prove he was still there. His strange compliance set her on edge. It was dark and they were pursued by wolves, but nothing bothered her quite as much as his obedience.

Jacob was almost enjoying this. Her determination and drive; her unwavering belief that she would come out of this on top; he was excited in ways he hadn’t been in a long time. Every so often, she would glance back at him and the fierceness in her eyes, just visible in the dim moonlight, would send a shiver down his spine. His initial annoyance at his survival and capture had worn off and now he was just intrigued. Could she truly accomplish this? Or would she be at the mercy of the wolves? All he knew for sure was she had stamina and heart. They had been cutting a swift pace through the woods for hours now and she made no indication of stopping anytime soon.

They did stop though, a little bit later as they reached a break in the trees. The moon told them there was a long night still ahead as it illuminated the valley below them. she took a moment to catch her breath, mapping their route in her head. He took the time to regard her. Mud streaked across her face and caked in her hair and on her clothes. Even now, she was tense, waiting for him to make a move. His gaze continued downward and he frowned, noticing that one pant leg was darker and wetter than the other. Ever so slightly, that leg shook under her weight. “If you wanna make it wherever we’re going, you’re gonna have to take care of that.”

Her hand moved instinctively towards the wound, tugging him inadvertently closer. She gave him a harsh look. “Yeah,” she growled, “Thanks for that, by the way.”

She tugged at the cuffs and the continued onward. He chuckled. “It’s not my fault you’re so hard to catch.”

“You could’ve asked nicely.”

It was… strange how easily they slipped into conversation like this. Jacob couldn’t tell to whose advantage this familiarity was. “Is it really that easy?” He joked, changing his tone to try and mimic Joseph, “Elaine, please join the project and end this foolish crusade.”

“Foolish crusade.” She laughed harshly, “You make it sound so poetic.”

“Well, you like poetic.”

They both faltered for a moment, turning over the thought that he might know what she liked. She swallowed the flutter in her chest; _he’s trying to make me comfortable_. He silently cursed himself_; he was getting too comfortable_. Silently, they left the moment behind them, pushing forward towards the valley.

Time passed in an immeasurable manner, the moon seeming to hold its position despite what felt like hours. Her steps began to grow heavy, and as she grit her teeth against the sharp pain, she forced herself to come to terms with the need to stop. It wasn’t ideal; they still had a good day’s walk to the rendezvous, but Jacob was unfortunately right: she needed to take care of her leg. The wolves still howled in the distance.

It took a while to find a cabin, but when they did, she felt both relief and alarm. She had to be careful. At this point, the Resistance would be just as dangerous as the cultists. With a hand resting warily on her hip holster, they approached the door. It seemed vacant, but she didn’t relax until she had cleared the two roomed interior. “Looks like it’s just us.” She mumbled, more to herself than him.

With a quick scan of the room, she noticed a radiator, just under a window, it’s piping securely bolted to the floor. Not giving herself away, she moved slowly towards the window, as if to check once more there was no one outside. The move was swift and calculated as she went to unlock her wrist and immediately snap the cuff shut around the pipe, but Jacob was quick too. He grabbed for the key, trying to wrap his arms around her to hold her still so he could wrestle it from her. She was just fast enough and the cuff clicked as it locked. With surprising grace, she twisted herself out of his grasp and stepped out of reach. He pulled hard against the cuffs once, testing the strength. The radiator rattled but held strong.

She had beat him. Again. Jacob watched as she slowly lowered herself onto the ground, letting out a strangled laugh that was half victorious and half painful. Outside, they could still hear the wolves off in the distance, the eerie sound echoing about the mountains. “So what’s next?” He asked, doing his best to be aggravating.

She gave him a look but said nothing. It was going to be a long night.


	8. Purpose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took so long for me to figure out how I wanted this to go, but the wait is over! As always comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! :)

She could feel him watching her as she moved about the small cabin, digging medical supplies out of her pack and trying to find a comfortable spot to address her wound. There wasn’t any furniture, and she wasn’t about to let him out of her sight… she finally decided to plop down on the floor in front of him, just enough space between them that she’d have enough time to react should he manage to find his way out of the cuffs. She unbuckled her belt and eased her pants down around her knees. There was a sickening, sticky sound as the fabric of the pants pulled away from the wound. The original bandage had fallen down, hanging loosely around her lower thigh. Blood oozed lazily from the hole the arrow had left. She had popped the stitches. Jacob craned his neck to get a good look. “Looks pretty bad.”

She inhaled sharply as she rubbed an alcohol wipe across the wound. “I’ve had worse.”

“Looks like you could use a hand.”

She paused and just looked at him harshly for a few quiet moments, scathing and unamused, before returning to her work. He chuckled. Her determination was… endearing. “You know, those wolves, they’re getting pretty close. I don’t know if you’re moving fast enough.”

Her movements remained steady, despite his heckling. “What are you even going to do with me if we do make it out of here? I’m not convinced you really have a plan.”

She padded gauze against her leg and began to wrap bandages tightly around her thigh to hold them in place. “Why did you come here, Jacob?” She asked, matching his tone and deflecting the line of questioning, “Why did you follow after a brother you hadn’t seen in years? Why do you kill for him? Why have you done what you’ve done?”

He was taken aback; it wasn’t a question he’d been expecting. He couldn’t quantify his answer to her; could not express in words what he felt for his family or what drove his need to survive. She could never make him understand what it was that drove her to fight as she did. But in the murk of failed language, there was one thing they both shared. “Purpose.”

“Purpose.” She echoed, “Please don’t tell me it’s divine.”

“That would be Joseph’s line.”

She watched him for a moment. Joseph. If there was one Seed she would love to never meet again, it was him. She fought the urge to shiver, the thought of him making her skin crawl. “Tell me, was he always so…” She tried to think of a polite term, “Passionate. I mean, I know that, in all reality, you spent what… twenty, twenty-five years apart, so you probably don’t know him that well, but…”

“I know my brother well enough.” Jacob interrupted.

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like the distance she was putting between him and Joseph. “Of course. You’re right. You know all there is to know. He is your brother after all.”

“I know you and him are a lot alike.”

Jacob could play this game too. He could press her buttons just as much as she could press his. The longer he kept them talking in circles, the closer the howling Judges outside got. He could see the way she stiffened at the suggestion. Her expression didn’t change, no, she was too composed for that, but the way her head tilted slightly, the way her back straightened; he knew she didn’t like that. “In what way?” She asked.

“You both have come here and have… just charmed your way into these people’s hearts. The resistance, they trust you just as the Project trusts Joseph. They look to you the way the flock looks to him. You have this way with people. Hell, you even got me to talk. You two are the same. I think that’s why he’s so keen to keep you around.”

“We aren’t the same.” She said, pushing herself to her feet.

She had to move, had to walk to physically work off the discomfort that was rising in her chest. Her leg hurt like shit, but she needed to move. “How is it different?” He pressed, “You both have claimed authority over them. The only difference his is from God and yours is from the government.”

“I’m not…” She took a deep breath, trying to center the racing thoughts in her head.

He was trying to work her up, she knew it. She just needed to keep her cool. She relaxed her shoulders and gave him a hard look. “We are nothing alike.”

“I’m just saying the truth. Say you do manage to lock us all up or kill us; say you manage to stop the Project. All this power, all this authority, why would you ever give it up?”

That was it. That was the right nerve. Suddenly she was face to face with him, fire in her eyes, teeth bared. He laughed to cover the wave the of… excitement that rolled over him. “That’s not how this ends.” She said firmly.

And then suddenly, she relaxed, her expression softened. And he frowned, displeased by how quickly her annoyance dissipated. She knew he was bating her. Jacob leaned in. “It’s a bit quiet outside, isn’t it.”

She seemed unsure of how to react as he came in closer. She didn’t move away, but every muscle was tensed, ready for him to strike at any moment. There was no aggression as he shifted his position, moving onto his knees to match her posture. She could handle him, she knew she could, and he was still firmly cuffed. He knew it too, but he had her right here. So close; all of her attention on him, a small smile still lingering on her lips. Contingencies rushed through his head as he tried to plan his next move.

Her mind was on his words. It was quiet, unnervingly so. She suddenly felt uneasy. And for that single moment, she was just distracted enough. His hand was already on her thigh when she reacted. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

It was all she could think as she wrestled him for the gun. Even one handed, he was strong. Even though the cuffs bit hard into his wrist as he strained against them, he didn’t give up. Her fingers fumbled at the grip, trying to release the clip. Even if he won, she wasn’t going to let him have the upper hand

The howl came at the same time as the shattering registered. Glass rained down on Jacob’s head, getting caught in his hair and scraping his scalp and sliding down into his shirt. Shards flew at her, slashing her face and she stumbled backwards, bringing her arms up defensively just as the wolf’s weight hit her square in the chest. She hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of her. The animal stunk of bliss and dried blood and rotting meat.

Despite the growl of the wolf reverberating around her skull, she could hear Jacob chuckle. “Too slow, Marshall.”


	9. No Tricks

She wanted to scream; to beat the floor with her fists and shout out her frustrations; to slap that smug look off Jacob Seed’s face. Instead, though, she laid perfectly still, avoiding eye contact with the wolf. Its breath was wretched, and drool dripped onto her face, its low growls rattling around her skull. Glass shards pricked against her scalp and the back of her arms.

But then Jacob whistled, and it backed slowly off her. She sat up slowly, trying not to embed any glass in her arms. He watched her down the barrel of her pistol. They stayed still watching each other for a moment, both waiting for the other to do something.

This was a stalemate. He may have had her at gunpoint, but he couldn’t shoot her. He was still handcuffed, and she was still fast enough to at least get out a window. Jacob wouldn’t admit it, but the thought excited him a little: the thought of running after her through the dark. Nothing but rustling of leaves and cracking of twigs, the sound of their footsteps and their breathing… Focus. “The keys.” He said gruffly.

If he was going to have to chase her, he could at least try to not give her a head start. Even injured, she was still fast. Elaine stood slowly, watching Jacob and the wolf, her mind on the next ten steps she would take. She reached for her bag and rummaged in it with out looking away. Her heart was pounding, her legs were tensed, ready to make a run for it as soon as she could. She was more worried about the snarling creature that was pacing back and forth across the broken glass than Jacob. The worst Jacob could do was shoot her.

A small part of her, the part that wasn’t focused on survival, wondered if he could even pull the trigger. He’d has so many opportunities to hurt her and yet he hadn’t. Then there was the way he remembered things she liked… the way he’d been saying her name lately… Focus. She zipped the pack closed after she pulled out the keys.

There was a window behind her, across from the one the wolf came in. If it could break through the glass, she could too. She tossed the keys. They both knew what happened next. At the same time, they took a deep breath.

Jacob dropped the gun to catch the keys. Elaine turned, sprinting towards the window. The wolf barked and moved to follow. It was all heavy breathes, and the clatter of the pistol and the scrape of the beast’s nails against the floor and Jacob’s barking command for the wolf to heel. The last thing he needed was it tearing her to shreds.

He jammed the key into the lock, the handcuffs springing open. She hurdled forward, holding her pack out in front, breaking through the old thin glass of the window. Shards ripped at her clothes and arms. As she regained her footing outside, Jacob was on his feet and hurtling out the door, not even bothering to retrieve the gun.

It was thrilling. To chase and be chased. After the confinement of the cabin, and of being handcuffed to one another, despite the circumstances, the freedom of racing through the woods was a relief for them both. Beyond the trees, dawn had begun to break. Great streaks of deep red had begun to bleed into the inky sky.

Elaine wasn’t sure where she was going, she just knew that wherever she did, Jacob would follow and perhaps she could still turn this in her favor. His lungs burned. Her leg ached. She was annoyingly fast. While he could keep her insight, she managed to stay well of out of reach.

Then, all of a sudden, gunfire sounded, echoing about the trees. Shouting filled the air. A bullet dug into a tree to her right. It was enough to make her falter. A single misstep with her bad leg, her foot hitting a root and suddenly she was tumbling forward. She blinked and suddenly she was on her back, looking up as the first lights of the day were tendriling across the sky.

She pushed herself to her feet just in time to move out of Jacob’s reach. So close, he growled to himself. Too close, she thought. Elaine backed up rapidly, taking in the now open terrain around them until there was nowhere for her to go. Her heel hit air and she froze. Just behind her, a ten-foot drop to the river had her backed into a corner. Her shoulders dropped and she looked back to meet Jacob’s gaze. “Alright, Jacob.” She said, letting herself sound just as exhausted as she was, “Let’s do this. A fair fight. No tricks. Just fists?”

He felt jumpy. He couldn’t stand still. There was too much adrenaline in his veins, he was too ready for what came next. He laughed. Fuck, was he tired. “No tricks. Just fists.” He repeated, laughing again, “How do you keep this up?”

She was a bit of a mess. Leaves in her hair, cuts lacing across every inch of exposed skin, her shirt torn, her pants bloody. But she still looked ready to ruin him. He wanted to take advantage of the moment. Now was the time to subdue her, get her out of here and make her someone else’s problem.

Yet, he found himself frozen. Panting, catching his breath, unable to stop just watching her. No one had ever made it this far. No one had ever pushed him like this. No one had ever looked at him the way she was right now. “I’m just trying to do my job.” She smiled wearily, “Unless you’re willing to come quietly?”

The way he was watching her made her stand a little straighter. What was he thinking? Was he about to tackle her into the river. She didn’t like how she couldn’t tell. A gunshot sounded too close for comfort. There was a commotion and loud voices and three figures burst into the clearing. All they saw was Jacob. “Oh my god!” One of them shouted.

Elaine was lunging forward, grabbing him by the arm. Bang.

Next thing he knew, they were falling… and they weren’t. The world became cold as he was enveloped by the river. It was impossible to differentiate between the sensation of water filling his lungs and the bliss filling his head. His limbs were relaxing against his will as his body seemed to forget that it was underwater; that it needed to fight to survive. Everything just seemed to… fade away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, imagine if you will, all this played out in slow motion while "Only You" plays in the background.  
Feedback always greatly appreciated!


	10. Oh The Places We've Been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains elements related to Jacob's background with Miller and PTSD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Besides containing intense themes, this chapter also contains elements from Elaine's background. If you would like to know more, feel free to ask me about it on [my tumblr](https://smithandrogers.tumblr.com/)

The sun baked and burned his skin. Coarse sand rubbed against every surface. The ground was hard and hot and dry. He kept his eyes screwed shut, like if he could keep them closed long enough, he wouldn’t know exactly where he was. This feeling was ingrained in him. He knew the smell and feel of this place. Maybe that’s why he’d agreed to go to bumfuck Montana with Joseph: it was the opposite of this place. Here, in desolate nowhere, it was only death and decay and emptiness. He was shaking. He was thirsty, his throat dry, his lips cracked. His skin was burnt and blistered.

His stomach turned as he heard rattled breathing. No, no, no, no, no. This scene had played out a million times in his head; had haunted every dream he’d had. He could feel the body before him, knew the life was slipping from the man. He knew what came next. It was all he could think about, even with his eyes screwed shut, his hands were reaching forward to touch Miller. “No! No! NO!”

He shouted into the desert, even though there was no one to hear. He hated this. His throat clenched and he could taste bile. He didn’t want this. Not again. Not again. His eyes opened and he grabbed the front of Millers tattered uniform. “This is all your fault!” He shrieked, “You were weak! You were weak! I…”

“Jacob?”

He froze. No, there was no one else here. He had been alone; this wasn’t how this went. Shaky breathing continued behind him. “Jacob.”

She couldn’t be here, she wasn’t there. That’s not how this played out. He refused to turn and continued to shake Miller. It was his fault. It was all his fault. She was right. She was right. She was… “It’s…” Her teeth chattered as she shivered, “It’s okay, Jacob.”

His breath caught in his throat. Why was she here? She wasn’t. It was just his mind betraying him once again, taunting him with relief when there was truly none. He turned anyway.

There was snow in her hair. Little clumps of it had accumulate on her shoulders. It had soaked her clothes and turned her lips blue. Blood dripped down her face; the wound that would permanently mark her face was fresh. She shook, cold and tired. Her legs ached. She couldn’t see out of her right eye. She’d walked this path a thousand times in her head. She had felt the pain that seared in her skull on every cold night that made old wounds ache. And Maxon was heavy. He groaned as she shifted, trying to better bear his weight.

Knowing she would make it was a comfort to her; knowing he would make it was agony to him. So, through their Bliss-induced suffering, she held out her hand. She had carried Maxon out of the wilderness, there was no reason she couldn’t carry Jacob out too. “It’s okay, Jacob.”

“I was the weak one.” He said mournfully to the desert before him, ignoring her, “I keep telling myself it was him, but it was me.”

Rage filled his veins like fire, and he slammed the ground with his fists, howling. Strong. Weak. Meat. Rip. Flesh. Tear. The thoughts all flashed in his head, but he was unable to process them. They were like images flickering too fast on the projection screen. His head swam, dizzy and he felt as if he were suffocating. “So what are you going to do about it?”

He didn’t know the answer. All he knew was the misery and pain that welled up in his chest, pushing the air from his lungs and leaving him breathless and empty. It never ended. It couldn’t end. He had begun to doubt if even death would staunch the bleeding that had been running him dry. So why the fuck did she think that an outstretched hand would do the trick. Why was she so fucking determined to be a hero? He sure as hell wasn’t worth saving. “Why do you bother? Why do you insist on sparing me the fate I deserve?” He turned on her, angry and bitter, “Just fucking end it. Why can’t you just fucking do what you are supposed to?”

“I am.”

The illusion had begun to fade a little bit for her. If she could just reach a little farther… He lunged at her, trying to get her to back off. “Why can’t you just give in? Why can’t you just make it easy.”

“The price of strength is service, Jacob.” She said firmly, unphased by his anger, “And I am here to serve you just as much as anyone else.” Again, she held out her hand to him. “So let me.”

A tear rolled down his cheek. He hadn’t felt like this since he’d seen Joseph all those years ago. He’d looked the same, with calm eyes and outstretched hand. No one had ever helped him. Their parents, the state, the Army… they’d all left him to rot. Joseph had offered to fill the hole that had been left in him, but all it had been was anger and zealous and hate… mostly for himself. Why the fuck would she be any different.

But as the anger left him, leaving him feeling cold and hollow, the Bliss muddling his thoughts as it began to dissipate, he began to ask himself what did he have to lose? Hell, she’d already had his life in her hands and for some reason she’d spared him. Surely there was no greater misery she could inflict than what he had already endured. So he reached out and took her hand.


End file.
